


clean me up and run me down

by mollivanders



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-05
Updated: 2011-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-29 17:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollivanders/pseuds/mollivanders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s dark in the cabin and Duke can barely see the streaks of blood on her face, but he doesn’t dare go to turn a light on</p>
            </blockquote>





	clean me up and run me down

**Author's Note:**

> **Title: clean me up and run me down**  
>  Fandom: Haven  
> Rating: PG  
> Characters: Duke/Audrey  
> Author's Note: For at her Labor Day prompt-a-thon. Prompt - clean. Word Count - 668.  
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It’s dark in the cabin and Duke can barely see the streaks of blood on her face, but he doesn’t dare go to turn a light on. He’s just glad he got her here, away from the mob outside the police station.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says, know it’s a lie. Knows she knows but she’s stopped shaking, which is better than before.

“No, it’s not,” Audrey says quietly, in that worried assurance she carries around her like a cloak. This is Haven; it can’t be okay. Not with the Rev taking over and Nathan missing and Duke's trying not to think about that part.

Audrey got out. He got out.

Her hand clasps around his wrist as he moves to clean the blood off her face.

“What are you doing?” she asks, turning towards the door in a sudden motion that makes her wince. Sprained ankle, Duke’s fairly sure, but it’s not likely to stop her. The night’s still reflecting a dull orange glow, and he tries not to think about it.

Last he saw, the Rev was leading torchbearers in to the police station. That’s sure to make the morning news, no matter the cover up report.

“You’ve got blood on your face,” he tells her, gets her attention again.

“Mine?” she asks, hand fluttering to her forehead and wincing as she touches the gash that’s only just stopped bleeding. “No wonder my head hurts. Do you have any painkillers on this boat?”

Duke pats the First Aid kit next to him, a dry laugh escaping it. “This is what we’ve got.”

“We have to go back in to town,” she says, and he knows she doesn’t mean for meds. “We have to find Nathan, stop Reverend Driscoll. I don’t remember –“

She cuts off and glances at Duke. “It’s not the memory thing again, is it?”

“No,” he answers, shaking his head. “You got hit on the head pretty hard, fell down the steps before I could get you. Got you awake after we got out of there.”

She’s looking at him like she does, like she wants to say something but can’t, because this isn’t the time (there’s never the time, with her, always cancelling and rescheduling and rushing off to save the day), so Duke looks away. Focuses on the steady slap of the waves against his boat, thinks for just a moment of pushing off, letting Haven burn.

It’s an idle thought, but it’s enough to make him feel guilty when she catches his gaze.

“Hey,” she says, reaching for his hand again, hers closing over his. Her pulse is steady like the waves and he manages to meet her eyes, notices another streak of blood.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says quietly, scooting closer to her, and Audrey lets his hand go. “And then we’ll go find Nathan.”

(There’s a moment, just a moment, where he wonders if she shares his same guilty thought.)

“Yeah, okay,” she says, but there’s just the tiniest wisp of fear in her eyes before she looks out the window. It's easy to forget she doesn't always have the answers, that there's ever a moment where she's the one who needs help .

(If only because she never asks.)

He wipes the last of the blood off her face, pulls her up with him and feels relieved when she squeezes his hand, lets go.

“What kind of gun collection are you hiding in here?” she asks wryly and Duke laughs, remembers the last time they were on this boat and how this is just like a game, when they were kids and nothing mattered.

“You’re not a cop, are you?” he jokes and Audrey grins at him. “No, I guess I’m not.”

(Just like before, but he knows better. Should know better. In the darkness, he notices he missed a spot, brushes at it with his thumb and then decides she looks good.)

“Watch your step,” he says, lets her follow him down.

_Finis_


End file.
